


A Gift From Me to You

by YanderePuppet



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Altered game canon, Canon Relationships, F/F, F/M, Heavy Angst, Love Triangles, M/M, Mind Control, Mind Games, Mind Sex, Mindfuck, Multi, Slow Build, and yuri/yaoi for fun, dark themes, inspired by a quote from advent children, yandere!Sephiroth, yaoi in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:26:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5387510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YanderePuppet/pseuds/YanderePuppet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I've thought of a wonderful gift for you, shall I give you despair?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ribbon

**Author's Note:**

> song inspiration:
> 
> "You can't fill your cup until you empty all it has
> 
> You can't understand what lays ahead
> 
> If you don't understand the past
> 
> You'll never learn to fly now
> 
> 'Til you're standing at the cliff
> 
> And you can't truly love until you've given up on it
> 
> That's why we won't back down
> 
> We won't run and hide
> 
> Yeah, 'cause these are the things that we can't deny
> 
> I'm passing over you like a satellite
> 
> So catch me if I fall
> 
> That's why we stick to your game plans and party lives
> 
> But at night we're conspiring by candlelight
> 
> We are the orphans of the American dream
> 
> So shine your light on me
> 
> -Rise Against, Satelite."
> 
> end author note

     He dreamt that night. That same familiar, yet unrecognizable voice he’d been hearing so many months flooded over him. It whispered comfort, teased him light heartedly, told him it'd come back for him and claim him. It talked of strange, confusing, and unexpected things- some initimate and personal and deep for the blonde; the voice seemed to know everything about him somehow. It spoke to him for a handful of hours, as always, then after a while told him with a dark chuckle to wake up. He instantly woke with a start, confused as to how a voice in his dream could command him awake, but shook it off as nothing- that is, not until he saw something that caught his attention; the cell door was wide open. Elation and caution fought for dominance as the two conflicting emotions coiled around each other deep in his gut. He heard the voice again.  

   “Its safe. Escape now, it’s a present for you, my cherished favorite.” It’s imperious tone washed over him in waves of comforting mania.

       He explored outside to make certain it was actually safe to leave before he turned to wake the others. Cloud thought little of the connection between the voice and the carnage that splattered the walls in red, and soaked the halls in gore: it was almost as though something was literally preventing him from making a connection, or telling anyone else about the strange voice: or maybe it was just the overall surrealness of the empty, corpse littered hallways. It looked like a monsters playground. The only living Shin-ra employee they found was screaming about some kind of monster, however, their indignant wails really didn’t affect him.

    Not one bit of fear or concern sparked within him, that is, except that one pang when he found the sword that stuck in the deceased president’s flabby corpse. He would recognize that horrifying blade anywhere, it frequently haunted his nightmares- as did its owner, and the memories associated with both were anything but happy. His only clear thought then was to stubbornly refuse to believe what his mind, gut, and heart all instantly knew. He asked around until he had a clear answer. He even threatened that random employee in the room- Palmer, if he remembered, his thoughts were too scattered by fear and confusion for him to possess much sense at the time. When the robust, physically trembling, man confirmed exactly what he’d feared all along- that somehow Sephiroth was indeed back somehow by some means unknown to all but the demon himself, he felt the need to flee before he came back for the blade stuck in that office desk. Or wait. But why would he do that? He felt the need to see the once honored war hero- to be near him. But he had to run. Otherwise, Cloud knew he would have to face the nightmare from his past.

      As it was he didn’t need to encourage the others to escape with him. The sight of Rufus Shinra flying in on a helicopter had their attention in full. Still, he couldn’t help but stare in terror at the impaled cadaver, as though the shiny edge of that feared weapon were a whirlpool that pulled his attention into its very depths. Just like its owner Cloud thought to himself, shuddering as they exited the room, him at the rear of the group. He felt like he’d just discovered ghosts of his deepest fear haunting him, with every intention of inflicting themselves on him even more. Naturally, he was soon preoccupied by the variety of monsters that they encountered along the way, and the sudden urge ghosting along his mind (kill Rufus. Kill him and come to me that voice, that insidious siren voice kept whispering, commanding to him) and upon reaching the top of the building he had begun to shove the image of masamune and its wielder from his mind, if only at the thought of getting his friends away from Rufus so that he could question the man’s shady motives. And to beat the living shit out of the new president, for personal reasons. Mostly a strange desire to please this dark and disturbing voice. Even as he pummeled the other blonde he could feel it goad him on (yes, yes destroy him. Destroy this worthless garbage- he is in our way.) Praise him (such a good boy aren't you?) Tell him that he belonged to it (yes, you're mine. All mine, and soon I will have you for myself once more.) Before he knew it, the blonde president was fleeing via helicopter with Dark Nation held loosely in his arms.

      Cloud turned to catch up with the others, but unexpectedly came face to face with someone he’d forgotten he’d been expecting to see lingering around. The twenty-one year old blanched, and quickly attempted to escape in any way he could, only to notice the absolute lack of an exit-  well- other than the forty-kilometer drop straight to the hard ground behind him.

    “Is that anyway to greet an old friend?” Came the deeply intoned question from somewhere above his head. He grimaced towards the metal roof he was staring at beneath his boot clad feet. He paused to glare at the second pair of black leather boots (these notably shinier than his own scuffed up ones) in his direct line of vision. then looked up to stare the other man right in his pale green eyes. Only to regret it when he felt his own blue eyes begin to tremble slightly.

    “Only ones who burn down my home and have every inclination to harm me.” He said, voice level. His hands were shaking, as was the rest of his body. Strong hands clamped onto his shoulders, and pulled him away from the dangerous precipice he’d been standing so precariously close to. One hand slid gently up his neck to hold his chin in place, forcing him to keep staring up at the face he tried so hard to despise. The man in front of him chuckled. It was deep, dark, heavy, cold, and entirely void of any measure of humanity- but still a chuckle. “That isn’t what I came for though, now is it Cloud?” The taller man’s pale face inched forward ever so slightly, as if to examine the blonde’s odd expression more deeply. As he did so, a single strand of his silver hair splayed itself across the shorter man’s chest, imposing in and of itself. “Who was it that broke you out of that cell, hmmm? Does that truly sound like someone who wishes you harm?” Sephiroth asked him in a hushed, mocking tone that seemed almost casual. He also visibly smirked when trembling blue eyes closed in hesitation. He immediately snatched the shorter man’s hand, and slipped something around his wrist before the blonde could protest. When the younger man’s eyes snapped open in in confusion, he smiled darkly at him. “A gift.” He said. “To remind you that there is no escaping your past.” As he said it, there was a loud popping sound, accompanied by the sudden rustling of feathers. A single, yet large black wing extended from his shoulder, and he jumped off the edge of the building, proceeding to soar off into the distance, thus leaving an extremely confused and disoriented Cloud by himself on the cold roof.

       Blonde spikes fell forward as the young man leaned forward to examine his wrist. On it was a simple ribbon of the purest ebony. It was such a dark pitch that no light seemed to penetrate the concentration of the color, anywhere; not a reflection of light to be seen. He reached to attempt to remove it, but the string wouldn’t budge. He tried untangling it, yanking it over his hand, cutting it, biting through it, and tugging every inch of ribbon he could find. The bow stayed perfectly even and unchanged no matter how much he tried to remove it, and he eventually lost heart. Giving up, he resigned himself to catch up with the rest of the party, while trying to discern the cryptic message the ex-general had parted with. It only left Cloud even more confused. He punched a wall and stared for a minute at the blood that trickled down his knuckles before he stared at the ribbon once more, frowning at it as though everything was the ribbon’s fault. He walked down to the elevator silently, a quiet paranoia causing his own echoed footsteps to sound unnerving as they bounced back at him. The cold grey and white and steel interior of the building, and the dim lighting hardly brought much comfort themselves, and Cloud was relieved when he finally got down to the third floor, and found a motorcycle, of all things- a motorcycle! He certainly knew how he was going to get out of the oddly horrifying building.

\----------------------------------------------------(Page Break)------------------------------------------------------

      Gold Saucer. It was a strange name for an amusement park, whether the park actually looked exactly like the name or not. Then again, amusement parks all had odd names, likely a part of the actual amusement, as the games and rides were truthfully more entertaining than amusing. Unlike meeting a strangely cryptic robotic cat, while running around in the square, and subsequently getting forced into letting said cat expel some very questionable, shitty fortune telling on him. Said cat also decided to follow him around. Everywhere. The cat- er, Cait Sith, followed him and Aerith around constantly through the various areas, bouncing around on his personal mog and talking excitedly about that arcade game, or this plaza. At one point, he gave a long, rambled explanation about the ins and out of Chocobo racing. After some time, one annoying encounter, and a massive headache, Cloud decided they were better off splitting up, and trying to locate any hint of Sephiroth’s whereabouts, by themselves.       In his very thorough search through the entire park, a certain blonde nearly bumped headfirst into a large, robust man in what appeared to be a three-sizes-too-small boxing uniform. Or just really, unnaturally tight underwear. For a second, he thought it was Mukki and almost fainted in shock. he breathed a sigh of relief upon noticing that it was, not, in fact, the creepy man from the group bathing room. As it was the strange man before him questioned Cloud about whether or not he was friends with someone else at the park that, according to Dio, seemed around his same age. Honestly, Cloud  wasn’t paying much attention. Or at least, wasn’t paying attention until he heard something about a black cape. And a number tattoo. Something about unusual silver hair. But Dio as he called himself, seemed to act as though the person in question had already left. He did mention something the man (presumably Sephiroth) had asked about- some materia Cloud had never heard of before, and an even more shocking question. Dio asked him his name, and upon answering Cloud clapped on the shoulder with a force that he was certain jarred or broke at least three of his bones. The robust man then explained, to the very shocked and displeased blonde, that the man they were talking about mentioned that he was searching around the park for his friend, and told Cloud that he’d mentioned his name.      “Said he was needing to talk to you.” Dio exclaimed excitedly. That was what sold him on his assumption of who the man was. There was only one silver haired man he knew of that would bother to even learn his name, let alone remember it. He paused from his thought when Dio continued talking. ”But I think he left, so I guess ya’ll have ta meet up with him somewhere else… oh, righ’ he said this was for you.” The man offered the blonde a slip of paper, and he calmly reached forward and grabbed it, before unfolding the note and reading it.  

_Meet me in the unused janitor closet in the hotel._

_-S_

       So instead, Cloud found himself in the arcade trying to earn some GP, and avoid confronting the other until he got the entire group rounded up to accompany him. He sat at the only empty machine in the room, after finding a certain crimson colored lion-creature attempting the motorcycle game he’d wanted to play. The blonde was left with a large pink machine that read, in a very bold, unnecessarily pronounced script, MOG HOUSE. The game wasn’t exactly fun, but if he got anything out of playing, he’d be fine with the oozing fog of demasculinization he could feel just looking at the damn thing. Anything to get enough points for that mystery item in the GP store. He’d just hoped, oh fucking planet, he prayed nobody he knew saw him in the back corner, at the absolute most embarrassing machine in the park. He was just about to begin gaining a slight interest in the storyline of the gaming machine’s little romantic and cutesy seeming plot, not that he’d ever admit feeling so interested to anyone, when, suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. A very familiar, cold, and strong one at that.

      “So it seems I can assume that feeding kupo-nuts to a virtual mog takes precedence over searching for me?” The man behind Cloud whispered, hissed, cooed into the blonde man’s ear. He flinched. Only one person sounded so confident, so condescending, and so possessive when they talked to him.

      “What do you want with me?” Cloud questioned the other man roughly through gritted teeth, as he released hold of the joystick he’d been using to play.

      “Come.” was the only reply he got from the man he’d respected more than anyone else as a child. No, still respected, but the admiration… Cloud wasn’t sure about. He felt the waterfall of silver shift and pull away from him, and heard the creaking of moving leather. Out of curiosity, and the cautious need to keep the others out of this (which he noticed he felt all along, and realized meant he would have decided not to tell them anyway if he’d decided to wait until tonight), he turned and followed the other instantly, watching that hair cascade across the man’s cape. It was a good thing that the other’s pale hair stood out so much, and that the insane man was… inhumanly tall, or else Cloud was certain he would have lost track of him. He noticed suspiciously that Sephiroth never turned to check that he was still tagging along.

      _Cocky bastard. Maybe I should just sneak off and see if he notices. He seems too sure that I will just keep following along, but then again, it’s not like I’ve bothered to stop yet_. Cloud shook his head, a few light-blonde spikes swayed and danced as he moved his head, as though blown by some sudden breeze. He then looked up to see that there was no one else in the room, (that he did not remember entering), except for himself and Sephiroth- who was standing across the room, and staring at him. Cloud crossed his arms. This must be the janitor’s closet he thought, as he looked around at the cheesy interior that resembled something from a bad, low-budget horror movie.

      “So, what do you want?” He asked again, trying not to let his voice quake. He couldn’t seem to hold his ground whenever he tried to stare into the bright gleaming emerald of the other man’s eyes. Too many bad memories revolved around that cat-like stare, and the presence of something else he’d tried so fucking hard to force out of himself. Well, there’s the admiration, Cloud thought darkly, momentarily distracted. In a flash,the leather-clad man was behind him, sword drawn. It took a while for Cloud to finally notice that his earlobe was sore. Throbbing actually. He reached up to feel it, and found a hole, not a large one, but it was noticeably there. Not to mention bleeding. His eyes widened. What in Odin’s name was that? He turned to find pale lips twitching up into the ghost of a smirk at his reaction. The silver haired man re-sheathed his blade swiftly, his deft hand slipping it back with practiced ease. Cloud soon backed away as a leather gloved hand reached for the hole left in his ear, but instead of escaping he merely gasped as he backed up into a wall.  The silver-haired man pinned him with a warning glare, then proceeded to shove something tiny through the fresh hole in earlobe, and clasp it a bit too roughly in the back.

      “Just have another gift for you, Cloud.” the man said, as he stepped back to admire his handy work. He chuckled slightly at the shocked look on the younger man’s face.

      “You just pierced my ear on masamune, how in Cosmos’ name is that a gift?” Came Cloud’s incredulous response. He received silence, then a chuckle in return.

      “Because the earring has enchantments on it, one that should prove quite useful for you. Come now, I do nothing without a purpose.” A leather clad hand reached into a small pouch. “I have one other gift for you today. Give me your left hand, Cloud.”

       “All your supposed ‘gifts’ are a double edged sword.” Cloud stated simply, hiding the hand in question behind his back. “Why would a ribbon that only protects me from magic be useful, if it causes all the spells that would’ve harmed me, to instead hit my friends? I have others to take care of, and this makes it difficult to protect them!”

       “It’s only intended to aid you. The fates of rest of your little group hardly makes a difference to me, I have no use for them, as I do for you. Now give me your hand, or I will do something very unpleasant to those two girls you seem to care so much for.” The darkness and insanity of the other man was more than enough incentive as a fear tactic, but that strange twinge in his gut, and the feeling like a tendril of some of the former admiration he held for the man before him (albeit tainted darker by something he couldn’t place) that entangled his senses left him without a choice. His hand seemed to lift of it’s own accord, and when it did, he saw a flash of green as something was shoved into his palm. He could feel the familiar pulsing of materia, a fully mastered Lightning materia, and the unmistakable sensation that was it entering the strand of black ribbon on his wrist. Looking at the two of them together clicked with something that Dio had told him earlier.

      “What are you trying to say?” The blonde choked out.

      “Whatever do you mean, Cloud? I feel like my statement was perfectly clear.” came the other’s response through smirking lips.

      “Black Materia.” Was all he could think of to say.

      “Yes, what about it, Cloud?”

      “What does it have to do with me?” He saw his reflection in the glow of the taller man’s eyes. The earring looked really old… ancient in fact. Another piece of the puzzle?

      “Depends on how you spend the next week or two. If everything keeps going the way it has been, you will know soon enough.” There was a possessive edge to the man’s voice that Cloud was unsure of. Half of him wanted to seethe and yell and deny the other’s tone, but half of him felt the tightening of that darkened admiration and respect. Half of him wanted nothing more than to know exactly what the other meant, so that he could hear that voice again, feel the way it seemed to slide overaroundthrough him. He could feel some part of him longing for the other man’s praise, acknowledgement, anything. As the man turned away to walk through the door, Cloud fell to his knees, and clutched his head to clear the conflicting emotions trapped in a painful cycle that tormented his skull. “And, I thought you should know… it appears your friends have managed to land themselves in jail. Something about a man with a gun for an arm killing everyone in the entrance to the arena.” And with that he left. Cloud watched him walk away with half lidded eyes, and heavy thoughts he wasn’t used to thinking. And that’s how Dio found him. Still in the closet, lying on his side and curled in the fetal position, as he racked through his brain for anything that could help him make sense of the particularly vile thoughts racing around his mind in dizzying circles, and the absolute want, the need, the yearning, he felt to… NO! He would not think of that. _No. n-no… no_ he couldn’t let himself think like that… but it felt right, oh so right and disturbingly real… and he… oh god’s he wanted nothing more than to find where the silver-haired man had gone. He needed to be wherever that happened to be… absolutely needed. He couldn’t think of anything else, not even when Dio’s large, muscled arms gently shook him, and concerned brown eyes gazed searchingly into his azure ones, that were instead quite turquoise at the moment. No, not a single thought crossed his mind as the large man brought him to a white walled room, and set him in an equally stark white bed, with crisp, freshly washed sheets, and nurses with warm, worried eyes, and shaking latex gloved hands hovering over him. Not a single thought except that need, that utterly consumptive belonging, he felt in that room. _Yes… Belong… belong…. belong…_

      “Yes, that’s right Cloud… You belong to me…” and as that voice whispered those words into his frazzled mind, and they began to echo around his skull, Cloud fell right into a deep, coma-like sleep, and thought back,

_Only to you, master…._

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**To “Ignis espiritus”**


	2. Conflict of the heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lovehatelovehatelovehate....love her hate him loverherhatehimhateherlovehim no nonono

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hasn't been edited much from the upload at faniction.net *shrugs* I don't own a thing or make any money etc.

Aerith was shaking. Not out of fear; worry, confusion, excitement, and tension- but not fear. Worry, because not one person in their group had heard of or seen Cloud since they all were ejected from the saucer and plopped into north corel. Confusion, as to why he didn’t get dropped there with everyone else, but a strong sense of excitement because Tifa was currently earning their escape by participating in the chocobo races. The tension was from watching Barret crying silently to himself in light of his fight to the death with his friend. She paced the small single room of the shed they were waiting inside of, circling the perimter for the umpteeth time and supressing her boredom. She sighed loudly. The brunnette ancient decided to find something better to entertain herself as she waited, and took to sitting calmly on the thin, torn-up carpet and braiding her ponytail. As her slender hand brushed by her hair ribbon, she smiled. It was a bittersweet, pained smile. Of course, memories of Zack were all bittersweet, she figured as she sighed once more, and pulled a tie around the end of the braid she’d deftly weaved in her hair. She fumbled with the elastic band for a few seconds. Mentally she berated herself. No need to worry over things she couldn’t change, not when she still had a friend missing. And how much that friend reminded her of Zack, albeit not near as eager to befriend others, or quite as energetic, but some mannerisms and well, former alliances of his, caused her to remember the boy she thought she might have loved. The blondes broodiness, however, allowed her to remember that he wasn’t Zack, he was Cloud, and she was beginning to have feelings for him instead. Stronger feelings than her previous relationship. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, noticing the others beckoning her to go up the tube first. Apparently they’d earned their escape.

\--------------------------------------------------(PAGEBREAK)-----------------------------------------------------

She absently fingered the letter in her pocket, heading down the bright, psychedelic halls and plazas to find the infirmary room. Aerith chewed the inside of her cheek in worry. Her knuckles turned white from where she gripped and fiddled with the pink fabric of her dress. Even the robot was silent, mostly. He’d been obsessively muttering his worry, and voicing the doubts everyone was having.Well, by the planet- how could he not?! Everyone was coping their own ways, dealing with the news; but no one knew what to expect. Coming out of wrongful imprisonment to discover that Cloud of all people had not only been found in a state of delirium that bordered paranoia, but had fainted, and gone into a coma for two days, only to wake up this morning with perfect vital signs, and nothing wrong? There was no way to know how to deal with something like that.  Aerith braced herself to enter the door.

\------------------------------------------------(pagebreak----------------------------------------------------------

He sat at the end of the bland hospital bed, ill wishing the nurse with the high-pitched whiny voice that was worrying over him. A two day coma? He wracked his fuzzy brain to see if he could remember what happened before he fainted, and ignored the medical personnel as well as his rising headache. The earring incident and conversation in the hotel flashed to his memory, as did his delirious thoughts following the encounter. He also remembered a mental conversation. He couldn’t tell if it was his delirium, or …. gods no, it couldn’t be that. It wasn’t possible. No way he’d say or feel or think that. NO. but then, there was the feeling that lingered. The other feeling. He _had_ to find…. _had to find_ the other man at all costs. Nothing else mattered one bit. Not at all. Nothing.

He was quite literally shaken from his thoughts, and promptly squeezed into the tightest hug he’d ever been a part of. He felt the back of his shirt stick to his skin in an uncomfortable manner, wet with something. After he heard a few sniffles- muffled by the deep violet fabric of his top- he recognized what the moisture build-up was from. He lifted his hand to tangle his fingers in light brown hair.  That's right. Something else did matter. Something very important. But what could be so important as to take precedence over this calling, yearning, haunting that sand in his mind and blood? His mind questioned. Nothing. Nothing, not a single tiny, minuscule, insignificant other thing. _But,_ he argues with himself,   _but Aerith is a special person. I think I might..._

_No. You don't, you can't. You lack the ability to even feel such things anymore. Not for anyone other than me...._

Cloud gasped. Holding Aerith tighter and closer to drown out that horrible, taunting, possessive, downright imperious voice that he recognized instantly. 'No. Not again. I don't believe you.' He thought back at the entity invading his mind. But he didn't even sound convincing to himself. The calling of the want- no, utterly consuming, all powerful need to follow that voice caused his blood to hum and spirit to sing out in desperation. He wouldn't bend. He was not about to break. He simply wasn't. But it went against everything his entire being seemed to crave, long for, need. _lovehatelovehatelovehate....love her hate him loverherhatehimhateherlovehim no nonono get out of my head!_ But he could literally feel _sense **smell**_ the man's location. Well, mental and spiritual location separately. He was sharing bodies with another entity that felt familiarwrong **necessaryimportant ~~needed~~**  to Cloud. And it felt so wrong to know that there was any connection between all of these events between them. The ~~three~~  four of them. Because Aerith was included in this madness, even if it didn't infect _affect **control**  _her the way it did him... Cloud buried his face in Aerith's hair on impulse, and mentally forced himself to relax and think of something else. Think of her innocence behind the flirty persona, and her sweet but persuasive nature and not of whet the future might hold. _"What you pursue will be yours but you will lose something dear"_ echoed through his head. But it was okay, everything was gonna be okay because he could _would **hadto**_ protect her.

 

 Suddenly, kissing the brunette in his arms seemed necessary. He thought it was like a good plan, a good distraction from the darkness an shadow. And her light, her flowery scent and pink lips seemed _so_ perfect but what if she didn't like that? Suddenly he was torn by a different conflict- one of pursuing romance or just letting her move it forward... Of all the times to be shy! He blushed, glad his face was hidden. Vaguely he noticed that she smelled of specific flowers- despite their travels muting it under grime and gases, she still smelled faintly of something between an Asiatic and a Calla lily with a slight hint of daisy. The way the flowers in the church smelled. She finally loosened her death grip and pulled away slowly, gazing deeply into his eyes. She proceeded to nag him about being more careful- and as cute as her face was, he found it highly intimidating at the moment- even more intimidating than...(no he wasn't going to think of that person right now. Not with anything other than hateful thoughts.) so he shrunk down and nodded mutely, prompting the flower girl to giggle lightly.

"Oh, your ear's bleeding. Here." She motioned the new earring, not questioning it- he could see in her eyes that she knew, at least a little bit, about the ribbon on his wrist as well. She cast a simple cure spell on the hole where the earring was, the faint green glow moving everywhere and growing unnecessarily strong- another side effect of the black ribbon.

"Thanks." the blonde scratched the back of his spiky head. She smiled at him and bounced out the door- but the second she left, the yanking tugging feeling grew more persistent. It was time to head to Gongaga,

**\--------------------**


	3. Solstice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares and holidays have never mixed well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda long chapter. *shrugs* 
> 
> I don't own anything

A/N: Yeah… updating. It’s been almost a year blah blah bite me. I still have no idea what I’m doing with this fic for a while. 

 

I don’t own a thing. And this is now going to contain yaoi from here on out, because as I believe I said in the reupload of chapter 1, the person I wrote this for doesn’t like to read XD and I’m writing the rest for myself. 

 

Also I’ve put this chapter off intentionally, because well, I was kinda inspired by the actual translated timeline, which I’ve checked a few times to be certain. It says the events of the game started on the 9th of December and ended late in January. nothing else for the original game canon time is specified, so I took some liberties based on estimations of travel time between continents- I want a certain scene to occur on christmas so, well, I can interpret what little info there is how I want and tweak it to be this way. *shrugs* Seemed like a good idea to me. The idea of the FFVII characters even celebrating christmas despite not actually having a christian religion period though…. (the only thing that’s even remotely related to christ is all the symbolism with Sephiroth so, I kinda had to think of something else.) So it’s not christmas but a handful of different winter related pagan holidays ^.^ easy enough, since a few pagan religions are related to summons and character hometowns. Winter solstice is the biggie here. mixing Norse and Celtic yule traditions for story sake.

\------------------------------------------------_(<<Page Break>>)_-------------------------------------------------

The ground was spinning. Blue eyes narrowed in concentration, past the lingering smell of mixed body odors (enhanced by the cramped nature of the buggy around the six people, and one very disgruntled Red XIII. And it was six now, with the addition of the ninja girl who didn’t know when to shut her mouth) was a tinge of old stale mako. A dead reactor. He could almost, the key being almost, almost see the twisted metal spirals and shrapnel that no one had bothered to remove. As it was, the trees were thick enough to hide it for a for a few more miles, and Cloud distantly wondered how the location seemed to be both desert and rainforest at the same time. Forest dense enough with trees that the buggy was not going any closer than 3 miles away from the town safely. He kept the “Maiden’s kisses” spread throughout the group, thankful to the shopkeeper back in Costa del Sol that had spoken about the frogs. He’d had the feeling even then that the Saucer wouldn’t have been the last stop on the journey.

He still had the lingering horror from the events a few days prior, and his dreams had grown dark lately. He didn’t want to shrug it off as nothing, but he didn’t want to acknowledge it either. So he never spoke of it, but avoided sleeping if he could, which was hard to do in a car that hadn’t stopped moving for days. If he wasn’t the one behind the wheel, he ended up dozing off into a tormented state of light sleep. His dreams would often rotate between a handful of potential subjects. The worst was likely the dreams of falling, the air around him consisting of nothing but soul suckingly black nothingness. He thought there were rocks peeking out at some intervals, but they only seemed to make the darkness more ominous with their subtle eerie glow. The worst part was that he could feel the fear and nausea of the fall, rather than the surreal nothingness of typical dreams, and when he woke, there would be unexplainable markings on him, similar to bruises, but they’d fade in an instant. No one else seemed to notice, aside from Aerith, who kept quiet. The other dreams started off as memories, but they changed from the actual events after a while. Of the two, the worse one was something that was not terrible for it’s content, but for it’s implications. The scenery was all too familiar, the bodys on the cold metal stairs, the tubes and the chamber and  _ him _ there at the peak of it, looking like some sort of fantastical avenging demon with newly acquired madness brightening his eyes. The smell of smoke lingered with him after those. The contents weren’t important, it was all location with the dreams of that night five years ago. The last dream though, was all content and context. 

The third and least sickening dream was of the boat ride a few weeks ago, and the final night  aboard the ship when they’d found him behind all the carnage yet again, the first time sapphire met emerald since the encounter on top of the shinra building. He knew that when they’d found him in the ship’s control room, everyone had been present, but in the dreams, it was just them. Him and the monster he was chasing. Why was never important during the dream, not compared to the words spoken between them. It was different everytime, except for one line from each of them. 

_ “We’ll be there by solstice.”   _ Dream Cloud would say.

_ “I’ll be sure to join the celebration.”  _ The nightmare would reply, all green poison glow and ferally curved lips. And when Cloud woke from those dreams, the smirk would stay behind his eyes all day. 

Last night, had been one of those dreams. And if he recalled, Nibleheim wasn’t far from here. Maybe a few days. Solstice was in a week. And He knew Tifa would likely want to stop and start a yule fire, out of tradition, and he would agree. He couldn’t explain why, but he knew the dreams were related. His concentration broke as a hand brushed his arm. He turned and gave a soft almost-smile to the brunette beside him, casting aside his thought to slip his hand in hers. He’d cross that bridge if and when it came, but for now, he had to focus on what was going on presently.

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After they left, Cloud felt strange. That name kept echoing in his head. Zack. Zackzackzack…. why did it feel familiar but unrecognizable at the same time?  _ “My first boyfriend” _ Aerith had said after the couple mentioned him. They were almost to the buggy but he was too noticeably distracted by his own thoughts.  _ Zack _ he thought again, the only thing a faint impression of lavender and bullet holes and rain, but he didn’t know why or how or when behind it. Aerith gave him an oddly knowing look, and offered to drive the buggy, where he soon fell asleep again. He dreamed, for the first time that week and perhaps month, of something that wasn’t fire and death and falling and  _ Sephiroth. _ He dreamed of energy and purplish blue, and white wings and bullets and rain on a cliff, but none of it was coherent, and he didn’t know what significance it had. Not till he woke up, and forgot the dreams, and remembered the name.  _ Zack _ he muttered to himself, not sure why he felt so wracked with grief and guilt and sorrow. He stared out the window and noticed the rain. All the worst things in his life happened in rain. Yet… he didn’t hate rain. The rain made it easier somehow, soothing with its pattering. He soon fell back asleep, listening to the soothing of the rain.

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_ “You’ve been sleeping a lot lately Cloud.” Those green eyes scolded him. He shuddered at the voice. Nibelheim again. Now the boat from Junon. And he was falling but wasn’t at the same time. The fall was metaphorical, some part of his brain told him. He told it he didn’t care.  _

_ “Car travel is lethargic.” He replied, falling from the boat back to Nibelheim where he locked eyes with that deceptively bright emerald glow. Cat pupils narrowed at him, smirk changing to a frown.  _

_ “You should be puking then. If you’re in a car.” That deep silken voice rumbled in a concerned purr. _

_ “What do you mean?” He didn’t get carsick… did he? _

_ “You really have changed a lot. No matter, I can fix you later, for now… there are more important things.” The deep voice continued, silver-white shifting, feathers rustling, emerald slats closing. Suddenly, they were falling together, so deeply tangled he couldn’t even squirm. Lips brushed his ear, the tickling of flesh and hair on flesh and the coolness of leather and warmth of body heat were everything. Emerald opened again, maddened glow fixed on him searchingly, pointedly. The blackness became fire, and feathers surrounded him, and all he could see was emerald fire, and silver water and pale marble features, as those lips moved closer to his inner ear, parting, speaking. “Join me.” They whispered. He finally found his strength, and tugged away, falling into the fire and away from the darkness, but the darkness followed with a ruffling of its feathers and another shift of silver, and held him again.  _

_ “No. Let go.” He tried to pull away but he was immobile again. Then the man just turned and walked away, leaving him. _

_ “Follow.” The man _ **_monster_ ** _ commanded, not even pausing to look back. And he did. He followed again, and couldn’t make himself stop. They were in the reactor and the fire and smoke was replaced with the sour stench of mako, and the madness increased. Sephiroth stopped. So did he. “Come.” Another command. Again he couldn’t fight it. Soon, they were so close, their noses brushed together. He was immobile again, couldn’t make himself move. Those lips met his, a caress of a contact. Barely capable of being felt as they spoke against his. “Mine” they hissed. “My beloved. Mine.” He reeled back, instinctively, and then he fell again, the only sound that voice. “You can’t leave me.” it called as he fell. “I won’t allow it.” And, with a start, he woke. _

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Upon waking, brilliant cobalt met a different green. A vibrant lively green swirled with earth and color and light, clear as water, and so delicately concerned. 

“Nightmare?” Her light wisp of a voice guessed. He nodded his reply. Swirls of dark green turned understanding and sympathetic. “Sorry.” She said. “Not much I can do about…”  _ about him _ hung in the air. He sat up slowly, unnatural glowing blue blinking in confusion.

“s’okay.” He mumbled sleepily. “That’s something I haveta take care of myself.” He brushed bangs the color of tree bark and warm earth away to look even deeper into forest pool eyes. Her fingers were cold with the winter air as they caressed his cheek, but her lips were warm and smooth on his own as he finally took the initiative and pressed them together. She responded heatedly. He forgot about the nightmare all too easily. He pulled away. “Just being here with me helps.” He told her simply. Pale pink curled softly into a small smile before she giggled, likely at how cheesy that sounded. He grinned then, a rare expression from him, and he noticed her drinking it in because he knew she knew just  **_how_ ** rare. She placed her hands on either side of his face, and he absently noticed that Tifa was driving. She looked alright, if a bit disappointed. He didn’t feel too guilty though, she was tougher than she thought. He looked back to Aerith as she kissed him again, slow, tender, calm. This time, he noted the faint strange sweetness of her strawberry lip balm, and the softness of her hands, and the lack of dizzy nausea that he’d felt earlier in the car. Did he get carsick? His memories of the matter seemed really mixed up. But that was unimportant next to the scent of flowers, he barely even noticed the other members of Avalanche yelling in light of the intoxicating smell.

“Gita damned room ya’ creeps.”

“Yeah. So not cool kissing while we’re all cramped in this- urk” 

“Do as you wish. Humans are so strange.”

“Dinnae expect that quite sae soon. I always knew ye had somethin’ though.”

And Tifa was silent, a bittersweet smile on her face. He smiled sadly at her, breaking apart from Aerith with a sigh. She hummed noncommittally, and looked at Tifa. 

“You can join in if you want.” Aerith said innocently with a little wink. Tifa just gave her a mock glare and said “not in the car” before switching out and letting him drive. So Cloud drove, the desert looking like it should be warmer than it was. He remembered reading once that deserts were actually colder than Hel in the winter. He could believe it now. A day away from  _ home _ with the mountains visible in the distance he learned just how cold a desert could be, and just as he learned it, he heard a spluttering noise. There was smoke in the engine. Nanaki hopped out of the car to sniff it. 

“It’s no longer functional. Come, my Hometown is just this way.” And the feline dashed off. Reluctantly, they all followed him out in the cold, to find a canyon in the desert, full of people with a bonfire right in the center of town. It was hidden well, but… he didn’t know how they hadn’t seen it before.   
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The bonfire was warm. Even with the somber air around the party it was warm. But…. he couldn’t look at it for long before it made him remember. And he didn’t want to. Tifa shared similar sentiments. But Aerith… Aerith shared a strange loneliness with him. He didn’t know what it was like to be the last of your race, but he could imagine it was terrifying. And Barret wasn’t faring much better. Everyone had something to mourn. Even Nanaki. He didn’t know why, but that made him feel slightly more comfortable.   
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The Gi cave was nightmare fuel, he thought. Bugen was ridiculous enough to tone it down, but the place had more than it’s share of terrors. Cloud shuddered, and took another sip of the alcohol at the inn. 

Aerith told him that he was sharing a room with her and Tifa tonight, and there was something suggestive to the way she said it… and it made him happy, but oh so uncomfortable and he felt so lacking in experience that he was uncertain what to think or say about it. But, perhaps that was for the best. He drained the rest of the cup, and headed to the room, belly warm from the moonshine. Maybe it was best they did this. Gods knew he needed a break right now. He let go his doubts when he saw them both, creamy pale and warmer toned flesh tangled together in the dim light that revealed as much as it hid. Everything about it was enticing, sensual. He drew forward, not sure which had kissed him until he noticed the spice smell rather than the flowers. It was a more aggressive kiss than the ones he’d had earlier, as well. Everything was warmth from then on. Hazy warmth and pale exposed breasts and shades of brown hair intermingling and smells combining and bodies melted together. It was slow and heated and every action was driven by pleasure and desire, and it was new, so new. Those lips on his own, and lower down. His own lips finding the folds with ease as he slid in his tongue, too drunk to care if it wasn’t being done right, he just knew he didn’t mind doing it. And the moans that came from his actions were pleasant enough on their own. He wasn’t sure who’d brought it, or why, but the plastic pink toy that was introduced halfway through was not something he’d expected. And it was a  _ strapon _ . He wasn’t about to complain though, not when the one wearing it (Tifa, naturally) left enough room to ride him while facing away so that Aerith could ride her. But other than that, everything was a pleasure hazed drunken adventure that he could scarce recall the next morning. He certainly would not mind doing that again. That he knew.   
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The next morning, after the buggy was fixed and they left, back out to the cold to drive a bit longer, close enough that he could see the river and the base of the stark black mountains, he noticed something a little disconcerting. There was a speck at the base of Mt. Nibel. But there should no longer be a town. It screamed to him, something suspicious and terrible and horrifying, but he couldn’t make it out. His thoughts and feelings were a tangled and indiscernible jumble that he was too afraid to unwind, rewind even just  _ remember _ . And... all too soon he just forgot that there  _ was _ something to remember. Aerith looked over in concern, and he blinked, forgetting his train of thought. Oh right, the town. He looked on in confusion, vaguely aware of Tifa straightening her back in tension. She was on alert. It was growing steadily closer, each hour, the speck looked more like a blob of discoloration, then eventually houses could be made out. And by sunset, he could see that absolutely nothing had changed. The town had been ashes just five years ago, he would and could swear on Odin’s name that it had. He had a nagging bad feeling in the back of his mind, but even worse, he had that other feeling from before. 

“ _He’s_ here. I can feel it.” He said. Aerith looked at him sympathetically. Understandingly. Tifa was still all stiff.  
“But how is this still here?” She queried silently at the mountains and almost ghostly silent town, unreadable mahogany shaded by dark lashes. Aerith paused at her voice, realization taking over her eyes.

“Then this is…. I thought you said it burned down?” She looked confused more than anything, lively green eyes open wide, voice faltering slightly. Nanaki came forward, sniffing the air.

“...Cloud… did you lie to us?” He said it calmly enough, no accusation in his voice, but those amber eyes were darkened.

“Yeah, tell us spiky!” Barrett added. Tifa frowned at them.

“I was there too. I can vouch for what he said…” She trailed off, a distant look in her eyes. “something’s a little fishy.”

“I’ll say!” Yuffie added. “This has shinra written all over it! Greedy stupid fat bastards…” She grumbles. Cloud’s eyes wander off, and unbeknownst to him, the blue isn’t so blue any more, greens bleeding through more than usual. The others take note, but say nothing, certain it’s just the mako in the air or something. No big deal right? None of them are entirely convinced however, especially when his eyes keep wandering to the mansion, and his replies to them come out sounding far too distracted. Every so often, he reaches up a hand to clutch an ear, or the side of his head, like he’s trying to drown out some noise, or has a headache, and it’s unusual, but they don’t say anything because he hasn’t had an incident in days, so why would they? If they ask, it just makes it worse usually. Slowly though, the distraction turns to paranoia and anger. There’s no one on the street but the houses are full of people. Rude people who yell and say that he’s a sick person for implying what he has, and he looks so close to one of his freak attacks after one encounter, that Barett drags him from the house that he’d gathered had been the blonde’s before. He wondered if that was why Cloud seemed so on edge upon leaving.

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Tifa stares up at her own old house in consideration. There’s something different about it. No lights are on, the air feels dark and gloomy and heavy. Inside is worse. Cloud looks worse, hardly conscious even. They’d seen the black Cloaked people around the town, two even looked like children. But no one spoke a word about it. Somethings are better off not said, they all figured. There are more cloaked people in the house. Tifa tries to speak to one, but for some reason it seems they will only respond to Cloud. And anything they say is a garbled incomprehensible ball of gibberish, except the faintly mangled but recognizable name, each syllable a separate word as they speak, and Tifa shudders, because that’s _ exactly _ what Cloud sounds like when he talks in his sleep. She keeps quiet though, afraid to voice her concerns, her doubts. One of them coughs, muttering that name the way they all do. She can’t help the fearful glance she makes towards Cloud, something in her on edge. His eyes are far too green hued now, his stance to rigid. She can’t handle his gaze so she looks away. There’s a familiarity in the trancelike expression on his face that terrifies her. A tilt of his head, a small quirk of his lips, and suddenly she sees silver instead of blonde and her heart jumps in her chest. It was her imagination, and she knows, but it does nothing to calm her edgy nerves. She’s terrified. She wants to leave, let the ghosts stay sleeping. But she knows they can’t. Even worse, the cloaked  _ things  _ are mostly holding small objects. Potions, hypers… small things of mild benefit, and they keep passing them to the blonde with eerie voice tones. The faces look hauntingly familiar, and it’s not until they find the note upstairs that she can pinpoint why. Then she vomits in horror, disgust, pity, utter  _ rage.  _ Cloud is shaking a little but the trancelike look hasn’t left. Barett is anything but helpful, Yuffie is nowhere to be seen, and Aerith looks somberly at the floor boards. Tifa shudders, not sure who it is embracing her until she sees pink in the corner of her vision, at which point she accepts the comfort and lets the other girl drag her away. She feels empty all of a sudden, devoid of thought. Just numb. She wonders then, bitterly amused at the irony.All the old villagers. People she’d…  _ they’d _ grown up with, were reduced to… to those  _ things _ in the cloaks. Now, they all payed attention to Cloud and seemingly had no mind for anyone else, but as kids… everything had been the opposite. She tried not to think of it, not wanting to come to the conclusion stagnating in the back of her thoughts, but she couldn’t stop or help the tears, the terror she felt. Something was wrong.

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The Mansion was far more terrifying. He didn’t know  _ when  _ exactly, but Yuffie  _ had _ come back at some point. She was flighty, eyes fidgeting and flicking back and forth, and was trembling noticeably. Tifa seemed even worse, growing more paranoid by the minute. But he noticed this in passing, his mind preoccupied. He could hear voices. Mean, terrible, alluring voices in a steadily rising crescendo, and he could feel _ sense _ **_smell_ ** that utterly horrible presence, and it was so  _ near _ that every one of his senses was on fire, hyperaware, excessively focused. And it wasn’t close  _ enough _ . The other’s were so  _ slow.  _ He wanted to get down there, get to  _ him _ but everyone had to investigate something. And of course, they decided they didn’t want to go to a haunted mansion this late, especially on the eve before solstice, but he didn’t want to stay in the hotel, or anywhere in town. He left them to their sleep, wandering around by himself in the bitter cold. But the wind and the low temperature were little more than mildly irritating to him. A thing that he noticed but was no longer affected by. He wondered if maybe that was a bad thing, but it made the place seem more foreign and surreal, and he didn’t want to think of this shinra fake as  _ home _ anyway. He wandered to the outskirts, a small wolf lying just outside the boundaries of the town looked at him mournfully. They seemed to carry the melancholy of five years ago just as he did. The village was full of prey, but it had been part of the pack simultaneously. The new village likely had less respect for the predatory creatures and their lives. He knelt beside the cub and stared, not at all surprised when it came to him and sniffed, deeming him good enough before hopping in his lap and curling up. He made no attempt to fool himself, he was warmth and shelter to the cub, nothing more. But their was a sort of honor to be deemed safe enough a shelter to something as feral and free as a wolf. He smiled sullenly at the furball, letting loose a small howl. It replied fervently, nuzzling him. He was recognized by the pack now, as he had been before. He stared up at the full moon, heart heavy but full. The wolf stirred, footsteps came from behind. 

“How do you like the change?” A familiar voice angled down at him. 

“About  _ them _ or the fact that Shinra covered it up but didn’t uphold the traditions?” He muttered bitterly, not looking back at the man, and only noticing the silver from the corners of his peripheral vision as the taller male sat beside him. 

“It’s maddening, isn’t it? Seeing traditions scorned so easily.” The voice came, soft, intrusive. “You may not have loved the people here, however, your roots were planted in these traditions. It’s only natural your heart misses them.” Cloud scoffed.

“Funny, coming from the one who took it away from me.” He replied icily, but made no move to fight. He left his weapon at the inn, and he was no fool. Even with his sword, he’d be lucky to get so much as a swing in. Cold, gloved fingers trailed down his neck, and his breath hitched. 

“You still have the traditions, do you not? Why mourn for people who would never so much as bat an eyelash for your sake?” The question was rhetorical, but he answered none the less.

“Because I could’ve made them. I…. I” His voice choked, forgetting what he was saying. 

“I’ve made them acknowledge you now.” The man interrupted, fingers trailing back up his neck, to his jaw. Lips soon followed the line they traced and leaving him to shudder, paralyzed and unable to pull away.  “Like they should have before. Undeserving though they may be of your attention.” Hands tugged him away, startling the wolf cub from his own lap as he was placed into someone else’s. The overwhelming smells of vanilla and smoke and leather and flowers overwhelmed him. He flailed a little, struggling as those arms came around him, defined nose buried in the untameable wildness of his hair. “Yes, so very undeserving, weren’t they? Not noticing what perfection they had, looking down on it as though it was beneath them.” There was a bitter laugh, much like five years ago, and he shuddered horribly. “So I had to intervene. I wanted it for myself, after all, and nothing was going to take this from me.” Fingers caressed his lips, long hairs tickling him. “But… someone has. Even after I went through all this effort.” A sigh sent cold air along his spine. The grip tightened.

“Let go.” He said, voice steady and gaze hard. But he wasn’t completely convinced with himself, those opposing thoughts still present. 

“Later, Cloud.” the voice came. “Sleep for now, you’ll need it for tomorrow.”

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They’d had a fire in the morning. Late, but Tifa had wanted it. They didn’t have a feast, or count the sparks to foresee the livestock, as they had nothing and couldn’t. But they let the yule log burn. It was a small comfort, before they’d fought their way through the haunted mansion and found a turk sleeping in a coffin. The words shared between them went on for a while, but they were here, at the bottom with the worst of the monsters. Cloud looked at the ground in shame. Tifa went to interrogate. 

“Why are you here?” She asked him

“Would you believe if I told you it was simple nostalgia?” The man asked. Cloud could feel those eyes burning him even as that voice spoke to her.

“I didn’t know monsters like you felt anything so human.” Tifa said coldly. Cloud felt the gaze finally shift for a split second, before it returned to him.

“Perhaps you should ask the monster on your own ‘ _ team’.”  _ The silver man practically spat. “He’s no more human than I am, I assure you.” Cloud looked up to glare into the green fire.

“Shut up.” He said finally.

“You weren’t so defiant last night, were you?” The purr came. Everyone gasped. Cloud shook angrily. 

“Don’t make it sound like anything more than it was.” He said coldly. “There’s nothing to say other than the next time you molest me I’ll-”

“Cut me? Kill me?” A laugh, a scoff. “You can’t. As strong of a  _ wolf _ as you are, compared to me you are little more than a  _ mewling kitten _ .” Those horrible lips quirked up, smirking. “Even if that wasn’t the case, you wouldn’t, would you?” The taller man goaded. “Despite all you say you “hate” me, nothing has changed these five years. You’re  _ mine.”  _ And those legs stalked forward as he said it, and Cloud shuddered when the others backed away. Those arms snaked around him, lips on his ear. “You can’t get over me.” 

Cloud punched him then, and though his arm was caught and twisted, the man let up slightly. The subject changed. Something important that he couldn’t focus on when he felt so  _ violated _ . But it was important and he  _ should  _ be listening. And the others looked afraid. But then, suddenly the man was gone, and he was left with ringing ears from the small whisper in his ears. 

**_“What a sorry excuse for a solstice celebration.”_ **

Tifa was staring at the exit, Aerith was looked at him in worry, Barrett was freaking out, Yuffie was hiding under a table, but none of them addressed what happened until they were out in the mountains, with Vincent having decided to tag along, and Tifa finally asked him what was going on. 

“He keeps…. finding me when I’m alone. It’s nothing really… he just…. He’s crazy. There’s no other explanation.” Cloud said simply.

“He tried to say he  _ owned  _ you. That isn’t nothing Cloud.” Tifa began. 

“His eyes had this dark cast to them,” Aerith interjected. “You could see it, couldn’t you? The jealous hateful rage when he looked at us. There’s something… some kind of…”

“Obsession? ‘Cause freaky fuck seemed more than jus’ a lil’ off his rocker with it.” Barret added.

“It’s the nature of a dragon to feel possessive of what it deems worthy of its attention.” Vincent began, his deep raspy voice introspective and philosophical. “In a sense, he sees himself as a dragon whose favoured jewel has been compromised, which he’ll take a personal insult.” Cloud stared at him, then opened up.

“He…. he said he …. that what happened five years ago was for me. That he killed them because….” He choked. Tifa’s eyes widened.

“Then… them giving things to you was his doing as well? Because he feels as if you’ve been slighted?” Tifa asked numbly. 

Cloud looked out over the mountain pass. 

“I think… he also might have wanted to make sure I had nothing else to turn to.” He said, looking down. “He’s crazy, and I’m worried I won’t be strong enough.”

“Strength is a matter of perception.” Vincent began. “If you tell yourself someone is undefeatable, then you will find them to be so. Yet, confidence can have the same result. It doesn’t change the outcome, you must try, and if you fail, do what you can to atone for it.” And suddenly, despite how morbid it sounded, everyone had regained a small bit of hope. The ribbon, the earring- they were forgotten momentarily along with the day. And everyone took a moment to remember- solstice was a beginning and an end. And the new cycle would begin, and they’d turn the tides with it. Hopefully.

**Author's Note:**

> Second cross post I've done. I am currently working on an Ao3 specific fic based off of a prompt my sister chose. originally written as a gift for my boyfriend when he graduated highschool.
> 
> I own nothing, except the gifts, because those are my ideas ^.^


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